


FALL LINE

by alizarin_nyc



Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-24
Updated: 2006-11-24
Packaged: 2017-12-26 06:28:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/962685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alizarin_nyc/pseuds/alizarin_nyc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Booth seems to be flirting and sleeping his way around the Jeffersonian. Jack isn't sure how he feels about that. Thankful, maybe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	FALL LINE

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place roughly around seasons 1 & 2.

Jack snapped off the television and emptied the last swallow of red wine in the glass. It had been a good day, not to mention productive, and he wasn’t feeling at all maudlin. That was progress.

He’d just finished brushing his teeth and was swirling the silt of toothpaste around in his mouth when the doorbell chimed. He ticked off the lists of ex-girlfriends, ex-family members, and ex-friends who might be coming around for a drunken reunion, booty-call, or recrimination, and shook his head. Whoever it was, was going to be a surprise.

Surprise was an understatement. When he checked the peephole, he actually jumped at the fish-eye view of Agent Booth. _Seeley,_ he reminded himself. Guys who had done a bit of desperate groping during a particularly tense moment could call each other by their first names.

“Hodgins.” Booth had his hands on his hips, gesturing with his elbows and his eyes that he wanted to come in.

“I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t a surprise, but I’ll skip the cliché and say come on in,” Jack said, trying to keep his voice as dry as paper. But his damn heart skipped a beat when Booth brushed by him and strode into his living room.

“Got anything to drink?” Booth asked.

“Sure, sure, is everything okay?” Jack headed to the kitchen, Booth in hot pursuit.

“I could say everything is fine, but then that would be in direct contradiction to me being here,” Booth said.

“Beer? Whiskey? I could open another bottle of Pinot – I could only drink one tonight.”

“Whiskey. Something strong. Do you mind?”

“No, of course not.” Jack waited until Booth had the whiskey in hand and was leaning heavily against his kitchen island. He stood across from him, the solid bulk of his own home between them. It was funny how Booth was always in Jack’s space, and Jack had never been in the places Booth was familiar with. This wasn’t even the first time Booth had been to his apartment, but those other times had been brief and innocuous.

Booth sighed heavily. “I started dating Cam.”

“Okay,” Jack said. Booth didn’t need Jack’s permission; they’d both been pretty embarrassed by that thing on the stakeout that one time, and he’d only been there because he knew the case like the back of his hand and Brennan was busy. “Protect my interests,” she had said to him solemnly.

“And it got really, really fucked up,” Booth continued. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, what I was thinking. She pulled the whole, ‘we’re just fuck buddies’ thing in the beginning.”

“And this weekend wasn’t the beginning?”

“No, this is the middle. This is the part where she invites me on a whirlwind New York weekend and we’re in the middle of Del Frisco’s – fantastic steak by the way – and she starts staring into my eyes and talking about moving in together.” So Jack wasn’t the only one who didn’t do turkey on Thanksgiving. Not a huge surprise, really.

“Whoa. Somehow I have a hard time picturing Cam getting all starry-eyed over anyone.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s not you, it’s her.”

“Yeah, well it’s really going downhill, Hodgins -- _Jack_ , sorry – and I wasn’t sure what to do. I caught a late flight out of New York, I’ve been driving around for a while.”

“Dr. Brennan not at home?” Jack asked, with one eyebrow quirked.

“I can’t talk to Bones about this!”

“Because you’d spoil your chances with her,” Jack said, keeping his face serious and empathetic.

“We work together. We have to maintain a working, professional relationship. The exact opposite of what I did with Cam, and Cam was so busy reassuring me it was fine and she kept saying _‘we’re adults, Seeley’_ and now she wants… oh God!”

“Easy there, buddy. Drink some whiskey. You’re not the first guy to be entrapped by a beautiful woman who says she just wants to have sex.”

“A woman, this woman, women in general… they are really something.” Booth drained the glass and so Jack, being the magnanimous host, poured him another.

“Yeah, _women_.” Jack wondered whether Booth was feeling the slow crawl of something awkward into the room. “Want to sit?” He gestured to the living room.

“Yeah,” Booth said, still heavily, still looking like a defeated giant, his face hangdog and his eyes pleading. Jack moved, and Booth moved at the same time, and it was like some kind of dance as they came around the kitchen island and met at the point of exit, like two rivers headed inexorably to the sea.

Booth’s hand came down on Jack’s bicep and they were now within mere inches of each other. Jack would have kept on going out to the living room if Booth’s hand hadn’t stopped him, held him back.

“Jack.”

“This isn’t what…” Jack had started to say _‘what you want’_ or maybe _‘what I want’_ , but damn, it was too late. It was obviously what Booth wanted and Jack wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t care about what Booth wanted.

Booth’s eyes were like a tractor beam, pulling him in. He smelled of steak, interrupted dessert, airplanes and whiskey, or maybe that was all in Jack’s head. He thought Booth would crush their lips together, make it crazy and desperate, like that night in the car, but he didn’t.

He kissed Jack on the cheek.

“What?” Jack was taken by surprise, not for the first time that night.

“I’m not going to say I’m lonely, or any of that crap. But I want to be here right now. Is that okay?” No one could look more earnest than Seeley Booth when he wanted to.

Jack resisted a shrug, a casual cock of the head, a flippant response. He didn’t have anywhere to be tomorrow, he had everything to be thankful for, so why not?

Why not? Well, because he wanted to be _friends_ with Booth, with every member of his new family at the Jeffersonian. Keeping Booth at a distance tonight was going to be very difficult, if not impossible.

And maybe Booth was going to sleep with everyone he worked with, maybe he already had.

“I’m finding it harder and harder to care about your sex life, unless it directly concerns me, just so you know,” Jack said.

“I know it’s complicated,” Booth admitted. His eyes narrowed and he was about to turn away. Jack had to think, had to decide.

“Oh fuck it,” he said, and swung Booth around, pulling his head down into a kiss. He bit Booth on the lip, hardened his grip and opened his mouth, gratified when Booth’s tongue slid out to meet his.

They kissed for a while in the kitchen, Jack pressing Booth against the kitchen island and devouring his mouth and neck for a while. He considered going down on him right then and there, but it was too soon, too much.

They eventually made it to the couch and Booth pushed Jack down onto it, his shirt now unbuttoned halfway and his eyes full of lust. The only one thinking with his head here was Jack, and that was always a bad sign.

“Fuck it,” he said, not for the first time that night and the leather squeaked under him as Booth settled his weight down onto him, his tongue thrusting fiercely into Jack’s mouth. Jack groaned. They were really going to go all the way, and what would they say to each other in the morning? Much less at work?

Booth was grinding against him now, hard through his pants, and dammit, Jack had sweatpants on, he’d been going to bed for chrissakes, it just wasn’t fair. He could feel everything through the thin layer, and it made him dizzy with want. Booth was heavy and the slow grind of his hips was maddening.

Jack needed the upper hand again or no one would ever find him, he’d be pressed so far down into the couch cushions. He’d be discovered, years from now, a layer of Jack-soil, by another scientist, much like him.

Booth paused in his assault to take his shirt off. He just didn’t care, did he, that they were colleagues of a sort? He was working his way up to Brennan, Jack thought stubbornly, going through Cam and him first… and Jack’s hands clenched at the thought of Booth coming on to Angela. Not even the amusing thought of Booth with Zach could temper the tiny flare of anger.

He took his temper out on Booth, stripping his shirt the rest of the way off and yanking at shoes, belt, fucking FBI badge, dress slacks, everything. He was going to strip Booth bare and take a damn good look, so the next time Booth brushed by him on his way to his next conquest, Jack could say _I still know you._

While Booth was peeling off his socks, Jack stood and took off his t-shirt and sweats. Then he gripped the back of Booth’s head and pulled it toward his dick. He wanted to see how far he could get, he didn’t actually think that… but Booth looked up gratefully – _gratefully_ – and began to lick and suck.

Jack was flummoxed and _hey,_ not for the first time that night.

Booth wasn’t an amateur, and that too was surprising. The man had many secrets. Well, Jack did too, come to think of it. Maybe they were meant for each other. Booth’s mouth was pretty incredible and Jack didn’t want it to end, so he gripped Booth’s neck and told him, “How about we work together on this.”

Booth lay back obligingly and Jack carefully straddled him in the opposite direction. He let Booth guide him down, back down, into that warm, wet mouth. Jack took only a moment to admire Booth’s thighs, stretched out on his couch, his toes flexed with pleasure, his dick hard and perfect, before he swallowed it down. Booth’s groan around his dick was worth it. They worked each other in tandem, Jack using his fingers to caress Booth’s thighs, knead his balls, and Booth holding Jack’s ass steady so he didn’t choke since it was all Jack could do to keep his hips under control.

At one point, Booth paused and pressed his hand down on the middle of Jack’s back, rising up to meet him at the same time and then they were touching seemingly everywhere, over and around each other, abdomen to chest, and a slick of sweat made the slide frictionless. Jack lost it then – he was always a sucker for intimacy. Booth guided him through it, waiting until the end, when Jack had nearly finished moaning, before coming into Jack’s waiting mouth.

“Thank you,” Booth gasped when they were both right-side-up. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Booth, unless you want me to thank you, too.”

They used the shower, separately, marking their space again, slipping the friendship back into place as best they could. Jack had almost thought Booth would be gone when he got out of the shower. But he was there, watching the television, gray light flickering over his face. He looked flushed still, and far less depressed.

“Want to stay?” Jack asked, telling himself he didn’t care about the answer.

“Yeah, I do, do you mind? It’s a really long drive, and Cam will be ringing my phone every five minutes and…”

“You can stay, if you remember my rule about your sex life.”

“Only discuss what concerns you directly,” Booth said.

“Well, no, that’s not really true,” Jack admitted. “You can talk to me about anything; I do want to be your friend.”

“You’re my buddy,” Booth said devilishly.

“Don’t even say fuck buddy or I will kill you slowly by looking at you with starry eyes and sending you flowers and clearing space in my closet.”

“I just call it like I see it.”

“Love notes.”

“I’m just saying…”

“Standing Saturday night dates.”

“Calling a spade a spade here, Jack.”

“Using the L word.”

“Oh, you are evil. You’re actually an _evil_ fuck buddy.” Booth was almost giddy with delight; he really thought he was quite the wit. Jack sniffed and headed up the stairs to his bedroom. We’ll just see who was going to come out on top of this game.

“Come upstairs honey, so we can snuggle!” He called out mercilessly.

Jack felt intense, wicked gratification at the sound of Booth’s steps coming up quickly behind him. It was all going to be fine. Everything was going to be fine.

  
.


End file.
